


Winter of Haeundae

by inertial



Category: B.A.P
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 05:12:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18771901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inertial/pseuds/inertial
Summary: On a winter night, Daehyun stands by the ocean and washes back his regrets with the tides.





	Winter of Haeundae

**[Winter of Haeundae](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O6edrVF6q6k) **

_Daehyun/Youngjae_

 

Clad in a heavy coat, Daehyun stands against the chilly night breeze, hands tucked away into his pockets. The water sloshes near his feet and sand has likely gotten into his shoes as his feet sink into the shore. The ambience is placid with the wind carrying the ties and letting go all at once at the shoreline, waves receding like a failed attempt to reach out to him. There are voices in the distance but not many, silence lingering at intervals before some laughter emerges once in a while.

It’s not surprising that there aren’t many people, since it’s a winter night and no matter how popular Haeundae beach is, an uneventful night like this leaves mostly reckless teens daring each other to go skinny dipping.

Daehyun exhales, shutting his eyes to the pricking sea breeze. It feels like stale youth, words not said like a drizzle over his skin. It’s so dark that he has trouble telling apart the shore from the sea, so he bends down to grasp some of the sand. They trickle through his fingers and the water touches his fingers. Daehyun waves off the sand.

Maybe a few years ago, he was here with the sunshine down his shin and the annoying glint getting into his eyes. Bickers, expectedly, maybe some popsicles and hands beneath the sand. It really reminds him of the time that’s passed.

The seawater gurgles. Daehyun flutters his lashes as the tension grows in his ribcage. He writes off the regret wrongly as sentimentality and washes away the memories of Seoul. On a whim, he wishes he was a better person, hopefully someone who would be remembered fondly if he walked into the water and vanished.

How long has it been since he began standing here? Daehyun isn’t sure. The warmth of his car has long dwindled and the wet sand has dried against the soles of his shoes. He’ll be treading sand into his car later.

Didn’t he dye his hair such a colour before? This shade of brown, damp sand. Daehyun watched and helped a little. A warmer brown matched his eyes, Daehyun had told him. It didn’t match the glimmer in his irises. He did have a childlike impression that stuck to the tongue. The vaseline wasn’t enough to prevent some stains on his face. Daehyun told him to apply more of it to his ears but he hadn’t listened.

It’s really cold, Daehyun muses, dusting the remaining sand off his hands. He’s been here for about two hours now, probably. He walked up to the shore only about halfway in. The sunset wasn’t all it was made out to be, but Daehyun did like how it seemed to dissolve into the water, disperse away over the surface and then drown into black.

He should go back now. The wind’s dragging into his eyes and makes him feel like he should be teary. But there’s none of that flood of sadness. Just bit by bit, piling up like the waves reaching further till he’s numb as the winter makes him.

Daehyun turns. He watches his steps as he walks towards the pavement a long distance away, raising his head when he learns how to walk without sinking into the sand. He notices the couples here and there watching the scenery by the pavement, and then the sole man sitting under the streetlight.

Daehyun bats his lashes, stopping in his tracks. The man’s looking at him, and upon making eye contact, it seems his breath has stopped just like Daehyun’s.

Daehyun steps towards him to get a better view. He wants to laugh, but the wind has numbed his cheeks.

It’s too good of a coincidence, isn’t it? Or too unfortunate, for either one of them. To think of all people, of all places, of all times, the world conspired against (for) them on Haeundae beach tonight. It’s ridiculous.

Daehyun stops a metre away, looking down at the man.

“Wow, it is you,” Daehyun breathes. “Hey.”

Daehyun notices his skin is cracked below his lips. “Yeah,” Youngjae smiles, worsening the tear. “Damn, I was thinking about running before you could reach me so we didn’t have to talk.”

Daehyun chuckles. “You aren’t embarrassed to admit that to me?”

“You know I don’t really care about being embarrassed around you.”

“Yeah, you were really comfortable around me,” Daehyun remarks. “Why are you in Busan?”

“Just a trip to get away. Seeing that Busan’s so big, I didn’t think I’d meet you.”

“Well, Haeundae’s a popular spot.”

“For those not from Busan,” Youngjae points out with a sigh, glancing out to the sea. “I thought your figure looked similar, but I didn’t think it was actually you.”

“I was here for a while. What about you?”

“Yeah. An hour or so. It’s cold, isn’t it?”

Daehyun nods slowly. When Youngjae glances to the subway station, Daehyun juts his chin in the opposite direction.

“Want to get a hot drink to warm yourself up? My treat.”

Youngjae tears his gaze away back to Daehyun, slightly frowning. He seems to debate over his words, but ultimately murmurs, “Should you?”

Daehyun shifts his weight to the other leg. “Why not?”

“Because.” Youngjae doesn’t continue, only releasing a small sigh.

He gets up and hums, “Alright.”

The café is a short walk away, their footsteps drizzling away further from subway station. The first floor is somewhat filled with light conversations, spaces in between seemingly too thin. As they find an empty table on the second floor, Daehyun turns to head down to the counter.

“I’ll order for us.”

Youngjae sheds his long coat and speaks, stopping Daehyun in his tracks. “Thanks, but you didn’t ask me what I wanted.”

Daehyun parts his lips, but eventually nods anyway. It’s an assumption from a quite a while back and he wants to say it, but he knows the implications he’ll dig out.

They used to eat here for supper sometimes, after Daehyun clocked out from work. Just because he remembers shouldn’t be hinting anything when it was a routine so ingrained into their bones.

“What would you like?”

“Hot chocolate.”

It’s the same. Asking was a waste of time. Daehyun blames his annoyance on that reason, not on the lost could-be. What would it matter if Youngjae learnt that Daehyun remembers?

“I’ll get you a cake too.”

“It’s okay. I don’t want to impose.”

“Matcha?” Daehyun asks anyway.

Youngjae shrugs, not looking at him. “Sure.”

Daehyun returns in a few minutes with a tray, ordering an extra cake for himself as well. He slurps at his latte while Youngjae grabs his cup with both hands like a child, blowing to cool it off.

“Never thought I’d meet you in Busan, of all places.”

“Neither did I,” Youngjae replies.

“Here on a trip with friends?”

Youngjae takes a while to answer. “Nope. It’s just me on a solo getaway trip.”

“Yeah, it’s good to get away. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, since work’s been piling up.”

“Oh, you’re working here?” Youngjae winces when the hot chocolate pricks at his tongue.

“Yeah. They offered me a place in the branch here. Thought it’d be a good chance to spend time with my family and friends.”

“That’s good. Is the pay the same?”

“Yeah. The day ends earlier too, since there’s less overtime.” Daehyun takes a bite of his cheesecake. “Why’d you choose Busan?”

“I wanted to see the ocean. I’ve cleared Gwangalli and Songdo.”

“Wow, you should be tired of the beach by now,” Daehyun chuckles.

“Not really. Haeundae’s my last one, though.”

“Saving the best for last?” Daehyun grins.

“Yeah. Well, it’s mostly because the guesthouse I’m living at is near Haeundae.” Youngjae laughs.

Daehyun chuckles along as the thoughts drizzle in his head. The words form and linger on his lips, so he sips at his latte to wash them away. They spill, anyway.

“You really do like Haeundae beach. When we first went there together—2015, was it?—you were so excited to see it,” Daehyun mentions, looking out of the window at the horizon. “Even though I told you it was nothing special. Just filled with tourists and clubbers.”

“You said I’d be disappointed, but I wasn’t,” Youngjae remarks, cutting into his Matcha cake. Daehyun continues staring out the window.

“Has it been a while since you came here?” He questions, turning his gaze but placing it on his drink.

“Yeah.” The conversation stales, and then Youngjae adds quietly, “About a year.”

Daehyun touches the sleeve of his cup. “Last December?”

Last June, they went on a trip back to Daehyun’s hometown, Busan. They stayed in a hotel for some privacy, even though Daehyun’s parents already had an inkling the kind of relationship they had. They quarrelled on the first day because Youngjae spoke too loud in the train and Daehyun chided him for it, in a manner he admits was thoughtless.

Youngjae was excited. He had only visited Busan twice then. Daehyun could have just told him to lower his voice.

It’s stressful to meet your parents.

Youngjae shrugs. Daehyun wants to ask more questions about when, but it’s his fault for asking vaguely. There’s no point or joy in knowing if it’s true or not, in any case.

“It’s nice,” Youngjae says. It’s his turn to gaze out of the window, but he’s genuinely admiring the scenery. “Standing on the beach in winter. The wind’s cold but it feels so relaxing.”

Youngjae’s eyes crinkle as he smiles. “I was going to stand by the shoreline till I saw you there. I didn’t want to ruin your moment, so I waited for you to leave. But you sure were taking your own sweet time.”

“Yeah. Like you said, it was relaxing.”

“You looked kind of down when you turned around, though,” Youngjae mentions.

“Really?” Daehyun takes another bite of his cake. “I wasn’t.”

Youngjae nods slowly, resting his cheek in his propped-up arm. “Since you think this beach is so overrated, why are you here?”

Daehyun bats his lashes. “I was in the area,” he churns out after a long pause. “So I stopped by. It’s been a while since I went to a beach.”

“Oh.”

Youngjae’s lips are chapped. The cream from the Matcha cake smears over his lips. Daehyun lifts his hand, gesturing vaguely so Youngjae gets the hint.

It’s strange how it feels like there’s still sand on his hand. Trapped in between his fingers, along his cuticles, down into his bloodstream. It’s unnerving and it makes Daehyun want to pick each grain off his fingers.

He dusts his hand, looking at the watery reflection in his latte. Youngjae continues munching on his cake as they settle in a lumbering silence. The bossa nova plays overhead while Daehyun feels his palm lines.

Now that Youngjae has removed his coat, he can tell more clearly that Youngjae’s lost weight. It happens whenever he’s stressed. When work gets insanely busy, he binges often, gaining weight under a stress that’s hectic like fire. But the kind of stress Daehyun’s referring to is when he’s not in a too good place. He forgets to eat because the thoughts take up too much of his attention, consuming him for breakfast instead.

Daehyun doesn’t remember why they broke up. He remembers how—with Youngjae gritting back tears and both of them furious. It wasn’t amicable but it was mutual, at the very least. It’s almost funny to think the last they saw each other was when they bared such ugly sides of themselves.

There’s so much sand over Daehyun’s palm that it stings. He rubs the nape of his neck, parting his lips as the brittle words rain in his mind. He blinks fast and looks up with a flatline composure.

“Why didn’t you come here with your partner?” Daehyun hums, stirring his latte.

Youngjae furrows his brows. His frown dissipates into exasperated eyes and answers after a few seconds, “Because I wanted to come alone.”

Daehyun knows the answer, but the sand pricks at him to keep going. He knows the answer—somewhat. Maybe. ~~Hopefully~~.

“He’ll be upset that you left him behind,” Daehyun chuckles. He continues stirring his latte. Even he regrets how ridiculous his initial question was.

Youngjae releases a short exhale, glancing out the glass window. “It’s fine. He can handle it; he’s a grown man.”

Maybe.

Daehyun stops stirring. He takes a gulp while the sand gurgles in the depths of his ribcage. It’s bitter. He should get more sugar.

“Is he handsome?” Daehyun warmly asks.

Youngjae doesn’t tear his gaze from the glass. “Yeah. Exactly my type.”

“Well, that’s good. You always used to say you dated me for my looks,” Daehyun laughs, playing with the sleeve of his cup. “Well, I guess not, since we didn’t last.”

Youngjae releases a soft breath and doesn’t reply, tilting his head as his eyes dart over the horizon.

“It’s good that we’ve both moved on.” Daehyun grins, his words dripping with insinuations. “What’s your boyfriend’s name?”

“Do you need to know?” Youngjae finally looks to him and he holds his stare well. “It sounds like you’ve found someone. Congrats. What’s their name?”

Daehyun nods slowly, remarking, “Right, sorry. That was nosy.” He doesn’t deny Youngjae’s assumption.

He reaches over to take the tissue and accidentally brushes his fingers over Youngjae’s wrist. Youngjae pulls back and touches the area like he’s been burnt, despite how subtle his gesture is.

Daehyun flicks at his collar amidst the long silence. It’s hard to breathe with how stuffy it is in here, winter encasing them in an artificial warmth and tungsten lights.

“Why’d we break up?” Daehyun asks, voice hoarse. “I can’t remember.”

The tension seems to ease from Youngjae’s expression. He stirs his drink as his eyes brim with haziness. “I can’t really remember either. It seems like so long ago.”

“Yeah. A year ago, right?”

“Around there. A little more, if I’m not wrong,” Youngjae whispers, wistfulness gnawing into his words. “I think it was because we kept fighting. Do you remember over what?”

“I’m not sure,” Daehyun’s voice falls in volume.

“It’s funny, isn’t it? We got so mad over those things but we can barely remember them now,” Youngjae sighs, putting down his cup. His brooding gaze signals the end of the conversation, like he’s on the brink of reaching the end of a sad story and he doesn’t want to delve into it.

Youngjae takes the last bite of his cake. “I should head back before it gets any colder.”

Daehyun looks to his own half-finished cheesecake. It takes a while to form the words. “Why don’t you stay for a while more?”

He cuts out a small piece of his cake. “Until I’m done.”

“You used to gobble up everything. Why are you so slow today?” Youngjae bluntly asks.

Daehyun cuts a bigger piece to munch on. “I had a heavy dinner.”

“I see,” Youngjae heaves. He shakes his cup of hot chocolate. “Is the cake good?”

“Yeah.” Daehyun slices out a big piece and holds it out, belatedly pulling back his arm. He puts it in Youngjae’s plate instead. “Try it.”

“Thanks. Oh, it’s good. Better than the one that you alwa- the one at Coffee Home.”

“Mm. But we went there for your blueberry cake, anyway.”

Youngjae glances away. “You haven’t lost your Seoul accent,” he remarks. “Do you switch between them?”

“Yeah. I haven’t used it in a while, so I’m glad to hear that.”

“You can switch between them pretty easily. You’ve been speaking to me with a Seoul accent since you saw me today. It’s like you automatically changed once you saw a person from Seoul,” Youngjae laughs.

Daehyun smiles along. “Yeah.”

“How long has it been since you took up the job here?”

“About half a year.”

“Huh. All this time I thought you were still in Seoul.”

Daehyun lowers his eyes, tracing out the patterns of the table with his stare. “You’ve been doing well, right?”

Youngjae looks at him for a while, seemingly surprised that Daehyun would ask. “Yeah. What about you?” He questions with a sincere tenderness.

“Yeah.”

“That’s good. Honestly, I was worried,” Youngjae whispers. “Since we broke up on pretty bad terms.”

“You were?” Daehyun squeezes his cup, near empty.

“Yeah. You don’t get over this kind of things easily, so I was worried,” Youngjae softly divulges.

It’s bittersweet. The warmth makes him anxious and breathless, but bleeds in a guardedness under his bones.

Daehyun knows Youngjae’s just being earnest. He speaks whatever comes to mind with a stunning comfortableness, living easily in his own skin and baring his heart on his sleeve.

Youngjae’s not being spiteful. He’s not like Daehyun. At least, he used to not be, until the years went on and Youngjae had no choice but to throw the rebound, just so he could keep his sanity in their relationship.

“Who would? You left crying. And we never spoke from that day on.” Daehyun has completely stopped taking any bites from his cake since a while ago, only toying with his fork. Youngjae doesn’t miss it.

“You didn’t seem to care much, though,” Youngjae hums. “From what I remember, at least. You didn’t find me, didn’t call me, not even a text.”

“You said we were over. That you didn’t want to see me again,” Daehyun says matter-of-factly.

“I’m glad you listen so well, then.”

“What was I supposed to do? You should have made it clear what you wanted.”

Youngjae bats his lashes slowly, quietness gnawing at their frames. “You’re right,” he states. “We’re just not meant to be, honestly.”

He glances to Daehyun’s untouched cheesecake. “If you’re not going to eat, let’s leave. I’ve got an itinerary to follow tomorrow.”

After a moment, Daehyun puts down his fork. “Okay.”

The wind bristles as they step out of the café, warmth briskly deteriorating into a frigid coldness. Darkness bursts over them as they face away from the backdrop of incandescent lights.

“Which way are you heading? I’ll send you back.”

“It’s alright. I’m taking the subway. It’s only one stop away.” Youngjae buries his hands into his pocket and spares Daehyun a gaze. “Get back safely.”

He walks ahead, feet light against the asphalt. Daehyun stares at his disappearing figure while the waves loudly slosh under the moonlight.

They broke up a year ago on a December night in Seoul, more chilly than this one. Daehyun could tell Youngjae was tired. That small thing they fought over was the cherry on top of a dreary mountain of grievances and tears. Youngjae wasn’t built to last, but Daehyun assumed so.

“Youngjae.”

Youngjae stops in his tracks, looking back with raised brows. Daehyun’s breath fogs up the air and his heart clenches in his throat. He puts his hands in his pockets so Youngjae doesn’t see them shivering from the cold.

“You said you’re always comfortable around me, to the point you never get worried about being embarrassed.”

Daehyun shifts his weight to the other leg, taking in a flimsy but long breath. “So why aren’t you saying what you’re thinking right now?”

Youngjae thins his lips, turning to fully face Daehyun. “What, you think I’ve got something I want to say to you, but haven’t?” He scoffs, derision bitter with his smile.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind, then?” Youngjae rebounds frostily.

Daehyun blinks slow, face scrawled with fatigue. His heart pounds so fast the blood is rushing past his eardrums. Behind Youngjae, the memories seem to flood back with the tides lapping over the shore.

“Because I’ve always counted on you to be the one to be honest for both of us,” Daehyun rasps, “since I’m easily scared.”

Youngjae narrows his eyes. “You don’t sound very scared.”

He grits his teeth. “Then, have you ever thought about me? You think I’m never scared? You think I don’t risk getting hurt when I bare all my feelings, so _you_ don’t have to shoulder the burden of doing so?”

Daehyun lowers his head. Youngjae’s words had cut off just nicely, but not nicely enough for Daehyun to miss the tremors in his voice.

“I’m sorry.”

They submerge in a short silence while the waves keep crashing. Youngjae brushes his hair back, exasperation tinging his eyes.

“So, what were you getting at with that question? That we should get back together?” He finally brings up what’s been bubbling under the surface, letting Daehyun catch that elusive breath.

“It’s tiring. We keep breaking it off and getting back together. I’d rather be alone than be with you, get trashed up and left to deal with it all on my own. I’m not stupid enough to throw myself back into that mess.”

“Why do you always expect me to know what you’re thinking? I get tired of figuring you out, you know. Wondering what you mean, doubting you, doubting myself. I can’t live like that, Daehyun,” Youngjae’s voice drops with vulnerability, “even if I love you.”

The words sting. There was a time Youngjae never bothered to hide anything. He spoke with a brash innocence and unwavering confidence because he assumed the world was as nice as him. Daehyun thought he was naïve at times before they’d even dated, and he wasn’t wrong—there’s a lot of gossip for a gay person despite the sweet fronts everyone shows.

There were many things robbed Youngjae of his earnestness, even before Daehyun came along. But it hurts to know Daehyun is a lesson for him.

Daehyun curls his fingers, taking a step forward. “You wanted me to be honest. After you, I’ve never been with anyone else.”

Youngjae rolls his eyes. “That much was obvious. Neither have I. I only said so because you clearly wanted to know, but you couldn’t even be frank with that.”

“What time do you need to wake up tomorrow?” Daehyun breathes. He sighs in frustration. “No. Forget the question. I… want to talk to you longer.”

“Can I?” he rasps, honesty stark in his words.

Youngjae takes a moment to reply, turning to face the ocean with a long exhale. “Fine.”

They settle on a bench facing the sea, the exact one Youngjae was sitting at before. The quietness is a façade while the words thrash in Daehyun’s throat, gurgling like the receding waves.

“I think about you a lot. It’s like a habit,” the words are brave from Daehyun, courage borrowed from looking at the sea instead of Youngjae. “When I’m buying dinner, sometimes, I almost buy two, thinking you’re waiting.”

Daehyun swallows. “Do you think about me?”

“…Yeah. Especially on rainy days, because you always get sentimental on those,” Youngjae whispers. “Honestly? I came here because of you. I don’t know what I was trying to achieve, I really didn’t know you were here, but I came here because of you.”

Youngjae looks over, sadness trickling from his words. “You’re a coward, you know that? For not even trying when I said we should break up for good.”

“I am,” Daehyun returns with a rasp.

“I was tired of us fighting, but I wasn’t tired of us. If you were willing to fight for us, I wouldn’t have left. I just wanted to see that.”

Daehyun’s shoulders fall. Thing were simple, but why did they seem so complicated back then? It seemed so easy what the right words were now but what happened between them led to a good year of not seeing one another.

“Sorry. It’s… scary for me. If I begged, and you kicked me to the side, I didn’t think I could take it.”

He turns to face Youngjae, melancholic. “Wasn’t that the same for you?”

“I guess. It’s hard,” Youngjae muses, “to put your feelings out there honestly when you’ll get hurt.”

Youngjae meets Daehyun’s gaze, disappointment clear. “But it was always me taking the risk, showing I still loved you when things were hard for us.”

“Whenever we fought, I was the first to call you afterwards. First to ask you how you were doing.” Youngjae lowers his head. “You think I wasn’t scared? So many times I thought, why should I even try to end our cold war when you couldn’t be bothered to do it once?”

“It felt like you didn’t love me,” Youngjae murmurs. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve felt that way. Even now, I don’t even know what to think about then. Was I the only one in love? I really think so.”

The seafoam bubbles over the shore while the draft pulls along a chill. As the silence grows longer, bits of conversation floating by with the passers-by, Youngjae’s heart sinks into his guts. His words linger in the air, unable to be taken back.

“I did love you,” Daehyun finally speaks, soft and gravelly. “A lot. Sometimes, it made me so anxious how much I did.”

Daehyun churns out an apologetic smile. “Sorry, that you had to love someone as cowardly as me. Sorry that I could only tell you this now when it’s been a year—after knowing for sure you loved me back.”

Youngjae doesn’t reply. He leans back against the bench, letting out a long, dreary breath. They watch the waves reach as far as they can, yearning, pining, and recede into the darkness.

Daehyun sighs. “Ha, I wish time would stop here so we could sit out here forever. So I won’t have to go home and feel sad.”

His skin burns nauseatingly. Daehyun glances over with a smile, painfully casual against his clenched hands.

“Do you think it’ll work out if we ever get back together?” The words block his throat.

Youngjae doesn’t look at Daehyun. “I don’t know.”

Youngjae’s tired, Daehyun knows. He takes a deep breath so his sorrow doesn’t show, hand mapping out the cigarette box in his pocket. He dropped the habit when they were dating, because Youngjae worried for his health. He picked it up again after their break-up.

Youngjae plays with his fingers restlessly. “Should we buy some beer?” He suggests out of the blue. “It’d make it easier to talk honestly, I think.”

“…Let’s stop relying on that,” Daehyun decides. “If you have something on your mind, just say it. I’ll do it too.”

Youngjae fidgets. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat.

“I missed you.”

Daehyun doesn’t hesitate this time. “I missed you too.”

“Did you mean it when you said you didn’t care about my project?”

“Of course I did. You were working with a guy you’d dated and you guys broke up only because he went overseas to study. He earns way more than me. And he obviously still likes you,” Daehyun heaves. “I was trying to be understanding.”

Daehyun looks over, this time not flickering his stare away in a heartbeat. “You knew it upset me, didn’t you? So why’d you keep bringing it up, telling me all about whatever you guys did together?”

Youngjae coils his fingers. “Sorry. I wasn’t sure if you were. I just… wanted you to show you were mad, even a little.”

He wraps his arms around himself. “I just wanted to feel like you loved me.”

“I did. It hurt whenever you gushed about him, saying he’s taught you everything you know while I’m here, not understanding what you do no matter how many times you explain it. You had a choice to pick up the project or not. I have no right to tell you not to just because he bothers me, I know that. But the fact that you kept saying those things… it really made me feel like you didn’t give a shit about how I felt. It’s like you were purposely comparing me to him, trying to make me feel like I can never live up to him, that you gave up him for someone like me.”

“Sorry,” Youngjae croaks. “I was childish. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I didn’t like him—I wasn’t comparing you with him—I just wanted…”

His frantic words evaporate miserably. “I’m sorry. I was stupid. I kept telling myself, if you just showed you were upset once, I’d know for sure you loved me. So I kept trying harder, just… wanting to get a reaction out of you.”

Daehyun releases a long sigh. “Remembering what happened always makes me feel bitter when I think about you,” he admits, “but it’s not like I haven’t done those kind of things to you.”

“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” Youngjae mumbles. “Yeah, I thought so. There were a lot of things you did to me that felt that way. Like you were trying to dig something out of me… Deliberately rying to spite me.”

“Sorry.” Daehyun swallows, throat tight. “Every time I think about what happened with Hyosung… and our rings, I really, really wish I could go back and change what I did.”

“So, I was right. You knew.” Youngjae lolls his head towards the side, away from Daehyun.

“After Hyosung pointed out that our rings matched, you took it off,” Youngjae recites like a story he’d read just the day before.

“I could tell it bothered you, but I didn’t say anything,” Daehyun confesses quietly. “I took it off because I was dropping by the factory and didn’t want to scratch it, on the off chance.”

Youngjae takes a long moment to reply. “Do you know how I felt?” He asks, trying hard not to let the rancour show. “Like a stain. I know we agreed to keep things quiet for the sake of our jobs, but going so far as to take your ring off—”  

“You don’t know how much you hurt me,” Youngjae’s volume dwindles. He buries his face in his hands. “If you knew, couldn’t you have just explained it to me?”

“I wanted to. I don’t know why I didn’t,” Daehyun wheezes.

Youngjae doesn’t say a word, but from his eyes, Daehyun can tell he has guessed why. He looks out to sea, lips pulled into a thin line. Stagnant, deceptively calm, a look Daehyun has memorised off him when he’s on the brink of tearing up.

“Sometimes, it really feels like we hated each other instead of loved. Why were we even together? Why did we do those things?” Youngjae remarks.

“I guess… we were always fighting for an upper hand. We were really unhealthy, weren’t we?” Daehyun murmurs.

“I trusted myself not to hurt you if I had that upper hand—that security. But I didn’t trust you not to hurt me with it.”

“It’s the same for me.”

Youngjae doesn’t break his forward stare despite the words growing more piercing towards Daehyun. “You always made me feel anxious, to the point I needed these petty wins to feel secure in our relationship. I never knew what you were thinking. You said it’s the same for me. At least I showed some love to you. I took risks for you. I was willing to put my pride on the line so often for you. When have you ever done that?”

Daehyun blinks slowly. “I know I haven’t done as much. I’m sorry. But it’s not true I’ve never done things like that for you.”

“For you, I’m your third, fourth, maybe. You’re my first. It was hard for me like what you told me about your first boyfriend. Giving up so much for something you aren’t sure will last.”

Daehyun opens and closes his hands, feeling the air and his wrinkled palm. “Do you know why we stayed at a hotel the last time I brought you to Busan, instead of with my parents? Why I left you behind on the first day, and why I was in a bad mood. Why I didn’t bring you to see my parents this time.”

Daehyun clasps his hands together, exhaling lengthily. “I knew my parents had an idea of what we were, and I’d have to tell them someday. They didn’t take it well. To be truthful, I was only allowed to come back home after I told them I broke up with you.”

Daehyun heaves, combing his hair back tiredly. “I’m not trying to keep score. I just wanted you to know that I’ve done these things before, because I loved you. I really did.”

Youngjae keeps mum. He seems as though he’s not keen on even commenting, till he parts his lips.

“You should have told me,” is all he churns out, after a long pause.

“I didn’t want to ruin your mood.”

“Wow, so you think that matters more, huh? Me being happy about eating seafood and going to the beach is more important than you getting kicked out by your parents,” Youngjae smiles derisively.

“I really hate you so much. I mean it.” Youngjae’s voice shakes and he makes a move to stand, much to Daehyun’s alarm. He instinctively takes Youngjae’s wrist to hold him back.

“Youngjae…”

Youngjae presses his other arm to his eyes, back shivering. The sorrow burns in his words. “You should have told me. You treat me like a complete idiot. You really think me being excited about Busan was more important? You should have told me. It couldn’t have been easy. I’ve already told you to discuss it with me. We’d been together for only three years by then, you should have waited until you were sure about us.”

Youngjae gasps for breath, trying his hardest to hold back the tears. “I don’t know what you want from me. You do these kind of things for me, but treat me like shit. You act like I’m dead after our fights. You’re always telling me about your female colleagues, as if I don’t know what you’re trying to do.”

“I’m sorry,” Daehyun breathes, the clasp he should have held a year ago tightening. The weightiness pushes at Daehyun’s ribcage, threatening to crush his lungs.

Daehyun reaches over and gently pries away Youngjae’s arm, apologetically pulling him against his chest. “Sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I’m a coward.”

“You are. I seriously hate you so much,” Youngjae weeps, shudders running through his frame. “Couldn’t you have been honest with me from the start? Why did we have to be like this? All I wanted…”

“I’m sorry,” Daehyun repeats, the grief manifesting in his clutch. He soothes Youngjae with his apologies, running his hand down his back like on the days Youngjae thought about his own estranged parents. How he misses them but hasn’t been able to go back since he turned twenty.

Daehyun leans back, tenderly brushing away Youngjae’s tears while the boy gasps for air.

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Youngjae grits. The tension in his voice pathetically disperses into misery. “You knew you shouldn’t have asked me to have a drink with you just now. You should have just let me leave. What were you trying to get out of it?”

Daehyun keeps wiping at the tears. His hands go over Youngjae’s peeling lips. “It’s hard to be honest,” he croaks.

“Are you going to tell me you still love me?” Youngjae sobs. “All I wanted was a phone call. I was tired of always having to put my pride down and do it first, like I’m the weak one for loving you more. Every time, I was scared that you might actually decide to stop everything once and for all. Then what was I supposed to do when I was the one pathetically reaching out, only to be thrown aside?”

“I’m sorry, Youngjae,” Daehyun’s voice cracks. He presses their foreheads together in yearning to be closer, fingers trembling over the nape of Youngjae’s neck.

“I do,” his heart spills out of his throat with the honesty he had before they started dating—before the anxiousness began gnawing him alive and everything about Youngjae and his candidness made him insecure. “I still love you.”

“No, don’t say that,” Youngjae whimpers sorrowfully. “I’m tired of this. I don’t want to get back together. You always hurt me. What does it matter that I still love you and you do too?”

The words sting, but this time, Daehyun tries to learn Youngjae’s language in the context of his suffering. He cups Youngjae’s cheeks and plucks up his courage, finding his words slowly.

“We’ll be more honest with each other from now on,” Daehyun whispers. “I will. I swear. I’m sorry for relying on you to do so all this time.”

Youngjae shudders in his grasp. Despite his fears, Daehyun presses a soft kiss to Youngjae’s tattered lips while the waves dribble across the shore. The tender heat in a frigid winter washes back memories of years ago. On their first date, Daehyun fretted over his bouquet of daisies—if it was cliched, if it was appropriate, if Youngjae liked daisies. He changed out of his shirt thrice and couldn’t decide to tuck in or tuck out. Yet in a second, Youngjae’s delighted smile washed all the frustrating thoughts away into a happiness he still keeps.

Daehyun remembers their first time—him with his unsure fingers, torn between nervousness and a captivated, heart-pounding yearning. They were both inexperienced and learning about one another. Daehyun worried if he’d hurt Youngjae, so he went slow. Youngjae had trembled beneath him as Daehyun pushed in, both so lost in a lovesickness the world deemed revolting.

There were many dear moments they shared, even though the toxic insecurities deteriorated their relationship into a fight for assurance—what they misconstrued as a battle against one another. It’s sad how they turned out, driving each other insane with their guessing game. Still, Daehyun hopes he can learn about Youngjae a second time. In exchange, he’d hold out his heart despite his nerve-wracking fears of having it be torn up.

As Daehyun brushes their lips, Youngjae kisses back gently, movements like remembering Daehyun and their past. He tearfully gazes up at Daehyun.

“I love you still, but you already know that, don’t you? I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to be hurt,” he says softly.

“Then, let’s give this another try,” Daehyun says, courage emerging from his shaky fingers. “We’ll be truthful with each other from now on. If you’re unhappy about something, if I am, we’ll say it. If we need something from each other, we’ll say it.”

“Just once more. We’ll start again and do things right this time. Okay?” Daehyun hopes, losing himself in Youngjae’s teary eyes.

Youngjae lowers his head. After a moment, he gently rests himself against Daehyun’s chest. Carefully, he slips out his arms and holds Daehyun, nudging them closer.

“…Okay.”


End file.
